I’ve never had a fan before. At least none that were so willing to reveal themselves. For the last recital of the season, Amy Peel’s Dance Company, I again was designated as the flyman. So for the load-in, of which was very extensive, I took over the ropes and did what I could to improve upon my knot tying skills. Felix was on stage calling the orders to me, Amy supervising as the director of a dance company would, and I was pulling ropes and hauling scenery that weighed upwards of a few hundreds of pounds. All the while, Felix was talking to someone else on stage who, by all accounts, sounded very curious.
Whomever it was, seemed completely fascinated by the entire goings on of the theater. Then Felix pointed out that the voice was asking questions of me. I leaned over the pin rail to shout downward that I couldn’t hear whoever was speaking. The voice repeated, and Felix encouraged said voice to truly speak up.
The most curious voice turned out to be none other than the daughter of Amy. Teddie. Granted, the first question she was bold enough to ask me was my name. I responded in kind and invited her to the fly loft. Felix pointed the way and the next thing I knew, my first ‘fan’ had joined me high above the stage.
She asked all sorts of things. She inquired about the weight of the drops, the style of knots I use, and how fast I can move the drops. Full of questions, she persisted tirelessly to interview me of how I came to be a stagehand and about how I came to be at HSP. I wasn’t used to such questions. Not from a youth with genuine intrigue, anyway.
Having a fan/ new found friend made the technical details of this particular recital easier to bare. What I mean to say is that Amy, while with the best artistic intentions, kept changing her mind as to where certain drops were hung from. But that aside, everyone kept smooth and calm. And true to my form, I did my best to avoid any and all of the glitter. There was plenty on the drops, and the dancers, and in the streamer cannon. … Yes. I said streamer cannon. If you hadn’t guessed yet, this was a huge production.
And to top it all off, there was going to be a huge Michael Jackson tribute at
the end of the show. The last fifteen or so minutes were devoted to one drop right
after the other. Then right as the last number ended, I had to fire the streamer
cannon. No pressure.
I will say though that it went, as far as I was concerned, well. Everything
worked and impressed the audience. It was fun, but once again, after climbing
down from the flyrail, I was covered from head to toe in glitter. Somehow, I didn't
think this is a battle I would win. Having had my fill from Michael Jackson, and
conceding to the glitter for now, I assisted Felix in the strike of the last show for
HSP that season.
Amy Peel’s Dance Studio offered me several rare moments that I believe I
will take with me for a long time. I learned just how quickly I can move any given
series of drops and just how heavy they’d have to be to be too heavy for me to lift
(Unbalanced weight: about 350 pounds). I walked away from this experience
proud of what I can do. I was done listening to Michael Jackson for a good long
while to come, I was genuinely tired, and I had an even stronger aversion to glitter
than before. I also had a strange thing for me. I had a fan.
So there I was, glowing. Whether it was the glitter that had won the battle or
the fact that I had a fan, I was glowing. A good way for me to end my time at HSP,
I think.
Now, it’s off to Denver, Colorado for my new internship with the Denver Center
of Performing Arts, the Denver Center Theater Company, to be more specific. It’s
upwards and onwards.
Best of luck, for now, Faithful Readers. And may Glitter be
warned: You have won the battle, but the war is far from over.
I’ll be reporting from Denver soon enough. Until then, Cheers.
-ACS
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